


Curiosity Sated

by MoominQuartz (IceCreAMS)



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Crystal Gems, Developing Relationship, F/F, Femslash February, Gem War, Homeworld Hierarchy (Steven Universe), Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/MoominQuartz
Summary: The tale of how Snowflake Obsidian and Larimar joined the Crystal Gem rebellion.
Relationships: Larimar | Ice Monster/Snowflake Obsidian
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Curiosity Sated

**Author's Note:**

> tfw u accidentally write almost 3k for a rarepair
> 
> Gonna preface this with a general warning that this fic has spoilers! Since I'm going off of how Larimar & Snowflake Obsidian are in Steven Universe Future's episode "Guidance," I'm assuming that no one would be interested in this fic if they weren't that far already?
> 
> But just in case, this fic _does_ have some mild spoilers for the Season 5 episode "A Single Pale Rose," so... beware! Though it isn't at all the focus of the fic.

Little Larimar and Snowflake Obsidian go way, way back.

Back before the days known as the Gem War. Back before the rebellion of the Crystal Gems, before the false shattering of a Diamond. It’s a funny story, actually.

Obsidian is not a soldier, despite her shape. She’s a builder, a grunt worker. She carves trenches when the Diamonds annihilate biological life. When you need to build strategically in order to defend your armies, you call an Obsidian.

Larimar, of course, is neither a fighter nor a laborer. She’s an artist of the finest renown. Though plenty of Larimars are called to create in the name of their matriarchs, this particular Larimar has made herself stand out among them all.

The very first time they meet is completely coincidental. On Homeworld, everything is perfect. As Larimar is perfect among her kind, of a rarity that even White Diamond can find no fault with, she rarely leaves. But one day she is practicing her creation in the privacy of one of Blue Diamond’s chambers, which contains multitudes upon multitudes of fountains, plenty of water for Larimar to do as she pleases.

And on that day, Obsidian walks into the wrong room.

Larimar pauses and turns to face the intruding gem. Obsidian’s height does not intimidate her after her many audiences with the Diamonds.

“O-oh, sorry,” Obsidian murmurs, quickly saluting. “Forgive me, my Larimar. I’m lost.”

And it is said so bluntly, without the slightest inkling of self-awareness, that Larimar cannot help but laugh. Obsidian does not join her, nervousness marring her face.

“Oh, little Obsidian,” Larimiar giggles.

“‘Little’?”

“Come, come.” Larimar’s work in progress collapses at her command, and she hops down to ground level. “Follow me. You are looking for an Agate, yes? Preparing to be sent off to the next conquest?”

“Uh, yes.” Obsidian follows at Larimar’s heels, having to force herself to slow down; her strides are far longer than this little gem’s. “You… know where she is?”

“Of course.” Larimar looks at her temporary traveling companion. “Larimar 7FD-cut-9TL. You?”

“Uh.” Obsidian swallows. “Obsidian 2KL-cut-3XG.”

“It is nice to meet you, Obsidian 2KL.”

“A-and you as well, my Larimar 7FD.”

* * *

The next time this particular Larimar encounters this particular Obsidian, it is also the first time they meet a very special Bismuth.

Bismuth is not yet on earth. She is stationed on Homeworld, building a new sector of the Diamonds’ palace, which grows ever downward. Larimar visits often; at first, it had been to sate her curiosity about this “new sector.” Her repeat visits are partly because she grows bored in the castle when she isn’t required, and partly because Bismuth is truly fascinating company.

“You won’t believe half the things I’ve seen,” Bismuth tells her, but Larimar believes every word. As Bismuth works — and she works efficiently, even if she seems unfulfilled — she spins stories of life on other planets, life that sometimes interferes with Bismuth’s work. Vibrant violet and red plant life, animal life that nearly seems sentient but for their lack of language. Worlds with skies, with atmospheres, with weather.

Obsidian stumbles into this scene, too.

“Uh. Sorry,” she mutters in her deep voice, interrupting the smith. Bismuth raises an eyebrow at Obsidian, but Obsidian forms the salute once her eyes land on Larimar. “O-oh, I—I’m so sorry, my Larimar. I’m lost…”

Again.

“Don’t worry about that,” Larimar says, and waves her over. “Come here. Listen to the stories this Bismuth tells! They’re  _ fascinating.” _

“I should probably get going…”

“Where to?” Bismuth asks with a smirk on her face. “Far as I know, Yellow Diamond hasn’t found another world to conquer just yet. Still in scouting mode. So you’ve got nothing to do in the meantime, don’t you?”

Obsidian’s dark cheeks turn a hint of blue in blush.

“Come, little Obsidian!” Larimar insists. “Come listen to the wonderfully true tales that this little Bismuth tells. Have you ever seen life before?  _ Organic  _ life?”

“Uh, yeah.” Obsidian’s voice wavers as she comes forward. A moment of indecision leaves her standing next to sitting Larimar, which makes her seem even bigger. “I’ve been on a few planets like that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bismuth knocks her fist against her head. “I remember you. Back on, uh… what colony? 215? Or was it—”

“368,” Obsidian corrects. “Um, can I help you at all?”

“Nah, this is Bismuth work.”

Larimar is all too delighted to have another person to gossip about Bismuth’s tales. Obsidian seems surprised about none of them, but that hardly matters.

* * *

It becomes a habit. Every time Obsidian is on Homeworld, somehow, someway, this specific Obsidian finds herself in this specific Larimar’s presence.

Sometimes it is during one of Pink Diamond’s balls, and they aren’t able to interact at all. Obsidian admires Larimar’s real-time ice-sculpting from afar, wondering if she could ever be able to make something like that. Probably not. Obsidian was made only for building ice trenches, and Larimar was built only to make art from ice. They’re on two different tiers.

Obsidian confesses this to Larimar one day, when neither of them have anywhere else to be. It has been decades since she first saw Larimar create. And a curious look crosses Larimar’s face.

“If I teach you how to sculpt ice, will you teach me how to build trenches?”

Horror twists Obsidian’s gut even as her own curiosity rises. “N-no, my Larimar, forgive me. I shouldn’t have ever suggested it! I didn’t mean to ask for your — your  _ tutelage!  _ To think, an Obsidian, doing a  _ Larimar’s  _ job—”

“I’m not talking about your duty,” Larimar clarifies with a little giggle. “No, little Obsidian. This is just for fun!”

Obsidian thinks that kind of thinking is dangerous.

But who is she to refuse Larimar 7FD?

* * *

After Rose Quartz has made her debut appearance but before rebellion is in full swing, Larimar and Obsidian wind up on Earth for the exact same thing. Larimar follows Blue Diamond’s palanquin, a member of her court. Obsidian is also on Earth, but nowhere near Blue Diamond; she is part of a defensive measure to ensure that the rebel gems do not make any more… unfortunate progress.

It is Larimar that witnesses Rose Quartz and her renegade Pearl sweep into the Sky Arena. It is Larimar that witnesses the fusion of a Ruby and her Sapphire. Disgust sweeps through the crowd, but Larimar finds herself curious.

She has always been curious, despite her programming.

It is a shame that she will never see them again.

And of course, despite missing this historical event, Obsidian is not wasting her time on Earth. On the contrary: Obsidian hears the terrified but hopeful whispers of the rebellious Rose Quartz and her Crystal Gems; she turns to the earth she’s transforming into a bastion for Homeworld soldiers and spots, far afield, a group of beings who are not gems but bear startling resemblances.

They don’t come close enough to make any kind of scene. They stay far enough away to observe, and most of Obsidian’s fellow workers don’t notice; or if they do, they don’t care. They’re much more concerned with squashing the rebellion.

Some of them, of course, are concerned in other ways. To think that a gem could go against everything they’d been made for! It had never seemed possible before the tale of Rose Quartz. Maybe she was faulty, some suggested; an Off-Color. Something went wrong in her creation and that is why she’s like this.

Others, much more quietly, wonder if maybe she looked at the same things they’re seeing and saw something more.

Obsidian, despite her programming, becomes curious.

* * *

“What do you think?” Obsidian murmurs, nearly a hundred years later. Between the war and all the balls, they haven’t had much chance to talk since. “About… Rose Quartz?”

Larimar hums, tapping her fingers against her arm. This is an interesting situation to be in, she thinks. Obsidian is a trustworthy gem, but the subject of the rebellion is so tense — if you tell the wrong person that you’re a sympathizer, you might as well be shattered. 

“She’s certainly an intriguing gem, isn’t she?” Larimar asks with a giggle. “I’ve always wondered what would happen if I was the one to stumble upon her, face to face.”

“Yes?” Obsidian asks, breath stolen for a long moment. 

Larimar tilts her head at the broad-shouldered gem. She thinks she understands the hesitancy, and so she takes a leap of faith. “Do you think she would attack me outright? Or would she ask me to join her cause?”

Obsidian swallows, nerves shooting up her spine. “What… if you don’t mind me asking, my Larimar, what would you want her to do?”

“Why, invite me, of course. It’s only the proper thing to do, when you’re fighting a losing battle, to recruit as many allies as possible. Yes?”

Obsidian takes her leap, as well. “I… I think I’d like that, too. If — if I came across her, that is.”

“Did you hear about the fusion?” Larimar asks in quiet, excited whispers. “At the Sky Arena, before Blue Diamond’s court?”

“Of  _ course!”  _ Obsidian can barely keep her voice down. “It was all anyone would talk about on the way back to Homeworld! And I only heard disgust in their voices every other gem! But you, you  _ saw  _ it with your own eyes!”

“Most of the people I spoke to seemed in awe.” Larimiar gives a dreamy sigh. “Oh, little Obsidian… You know, I have never fused at all.”

“Really? I’ve fused with other Obsidians before, but never a different gem. Fusion isn’t frightening, not when it’s the same gem. I wonder if there’s a difference when you fuse with a gem of a different type.”

“I wonder!”

“Do you know what happened to the fusion?”

“Oh, yes!” Larimar hops excitedly from her spot on the floor and into Obsidian’s lap, and it feels strangely intimate in a way Obsidian has never felt before. “You should have  _ seen her,  _ Obsidian! A Ruby and a Sapphire, a laborer and an elite! Oh, it was glorious. But when Blue Diamond turned on her, on this new fusion, they ran for it. They jumped  _ off  _ the Sky Arena together, unfused, hand in hand!”

_ “Whoa.” _

“Rumors say that she’s still there, on Earth. A fusion, serving the whims of Rose Quartz.”

“A fusion, a Crystal Gem.”

The silence is still between them for a long moment. Obsidian dares not meet Larimar’s eyes, and yet she can’t bear to look away from her. Larimar seems oblivious, staring up at the ceiling, her head against Obsidian’s arm and her little legs resting over Obsidian’s.

Then there is the clearing of a throat. Obsidian tenses; her arms come around Larimar and pull her in close, defensive, as she surges to her feet and turns to face this intruder.

It is not one of the Diamonds, nor any other high-ranking gem. Before them is a Pearl. Obsidian wracks her brain as she tries to remember whose Pearl this is, trying to determine who it is that’s going to receive the unfortunate truth that Obsidian and Larimar are Rose Quartz sympathizers. She’s in the middle of calculating the fastest, most efficient way to shatter a gem (something she has never had to consider before) when Larimar pops her head up to beam. “Oh, Pearl! Does Pink Diamond have need of me?”

_ Pink Diamond’s Pearl.  _

But Pearl’s expression is not one of horror or confusion, nor one of smug confidence. She steps closer and Obsidian braces herself for a fight. But Pearl does not draw a weapon from her gem.

“You should keep your voices down,” she suggests in low tones. “There are many eyes and ears within the palace walls.”  _ Literally. _

Obsidian doesn’t relax, but Larimar slips out of her grip, landing elegantly between them. “Oh? Are you a pair of those eyes and ears?”

Pearl smiles, but it is not cruel or calculating. “If you are interested in the rebellion, listen close. On Earth, only one Kindergarten has been built. Go there, and the rebellion will find you.”

Obsidian stares, dumbstruck.

Larimar smiles and takes the Pearl’s hand in her own. “Thank you, little Pearl.”

Pearl gives a salute, a bow, and makes her way out of the room. The door shuts quietly behind her, and as Larimar turns to Obsidian, Obsidian is suddenly overcome with the horrifying feeling that they are about to make a mistake.

But it is a mistake they will make together.

* * *

Neither Obsidian nor Larimar have been programmed with the knowledge necessary to fly any of the multitude of spacecrafts that are kept in the Palace’s wing. Pink Diamond’s Pearl does them a favor, and Obsidian cannot begin to understand how a  _ Pearl  _ manages to swing this, but somehow, both Obsidian and Larimar are called to Earth for different reasons. Larimar, to personally entertain Pink Diamond at her base on its moon. Obsidian, to build yet even more trenches, as the war rages on.

The war is unlike anything either of them have ever seen. Obsidian has seen the smallest effects of the war; gems coming back from the battlefield chipped or cracked, desperately trying to hide their malfunctions, only to immediately be disposed, as if such a thing could be contagious. She’s seen rebels be dragged in for questioning, and they are not always granted the decency of being bubbled; sometimes they bring in quartz soldiers, gems with whips and gems with chains, and they literally drag rebel gems through dirt and mud on their way back to the base.

Obsidian is not sure if her sense of curiosity outweighs her sense of self-preservation.

Larimar sees a very different side of the war. Pink Diamond is only momentarily enthralled in Larimar’s creations, but she becomes bored quickly. Her Pearl sends a wink Larimar’s way when she’s dismissed, and Larimar immediately understands that this is her chance to escape. 

Larimar witnesses much of the bureaucracy. In her time spent with Pink Diamond and Pink Diamond’s Pearl, her creations — just as much performance as they are art — are often interrupted. Pink Diamond’s irritation with the gems who bring her news of the colony and the war is clear, though Larimar can’t quite discern why. 

It makes her nervous. Pink Diamond’s patience seems to be running thin, her commands becoming sharper, angrier, more reckless. A bubble collecting shattered gems, defeated rebels, is presented to her, and she waves them away in annoyance. No doubt those fallen gems will have their remains delivered to Homeworld, and then who knows what Homeworld will do with them.

Larimar should be frightened. She should clutch her gem and decide that nothing is worth this.

Instead, she wonders. All these fallen soldiers, all for the sake of one rebellion on one tiny planet?

No. There is something much larger at stake here. This is more than just Earth, than just one lone colony. This is about ideology and philosophy. Rose Quartz does not just fight for the life of Earth, but for the life of every planet. 

For the life of every gem.

* * *

Obsidian and Larimar meet at the Prime Kindergarten. Larimar had never witnessed a kindergarten beyond the one on Homeworld, but Obsidian had made visits to them before in order to shore up their defenses before construction began. The land is intimately familiar and foreign at once.

“I don’t know about this,” Obsidian murmurs as they walk through the treacherous valley. “Do you really think this is worth our entire existence? What if they rejuvenate us?”

“They haven’t rejuvenated anyone yet.” It is not as comforting as Larimar thought it was. As soon as the words are in the air, the gravity of what they’re about to do weighs on them.

“It’s not too late.” Obsidian pauses, setting her hand on Larimar’s tiny, slender shoulder. “Larimar, they could shatter us. And as noble a cause as this is, what if we’re walking into a trap? It was  _ Pink Diamond’s Pearl  _ that gave us the message, after all! We can’t trust her! She could be luring in gems with faulty programming, gems who consider disobeying the Diamond Authority!”

“And if we go back?” Larimar’s voice is not heavy, not grave. She tries to keep it light, despite the mess they’re in. “A Larimar and an Obsidian, returning to Homeworld after time unaccounted for? While they were on Earth? They’d sooner shatter us than keep us for questioning. They could dissipate our forms, put us into little mirrors and interrogate us for an eternity.”

Obsidian knows she’s right. Her grip goes to Larimar’s hand as she gets on her knees. Even like this, Obsidian is taller. Larimar marvels at it, itching to stand on tiptoe and wrap her arms around Obsidian’s neck. 

“Then promise me this,” Obsidian murmurs. She squeezes Larimar’s hand, gentle but firm, and despite the massive difference in their size, Larimar has never felt safer. “Promise me you will not leave my side. At least… at least not until you finally teach me how to make those ice sculptures.”

Larimar is filled with surprise, and then warmth. And then answer comes without hesitation.

Footsteps interrupt them. Obsidian is on her feet at once, ice coming to her fingertips as she steps in front of Larimar, a shield. Then, to her surprise, a familiar Bismuth steps into view.

“Well, hello there, friends,” Bismuth says with a suave sureness, arms crossed across her face and a grin spread wide.

“Welcome to the resistance.”

* * *

Then comes the war.

Then comes corruption.

Then comes nothingness.

Then comes Steven Universe.

And then — at last — comes curiosity sated.

**Author's Note:**

> My final one for Femslash February! I had plans to do more but ran out of time, whoops. I'll definitely be doing more F/F in the future though. This isn't even my final form!


End file.
